This year was not going to be a busy Holiday Season. So, about a month before Christmas, I decided to focus on honoring the Winter Solstice. This year, 2025, had not been a great one so this gave me the chance to send it packing on December 21st instead of waiting for the calendar New Year to arrive.
One description of the Winter Solstice that stuck with me was “the death and rebirth of the sun“. Sounds dramatic. But it makes a lot more sense when pondered than a Savior and Santa. At least to me. The days are short and dark as a Solstice approaches and that makes it just bit more difficult to want to do things, go places, and begin things. The sun is dying after all.
I happened to have Winter Solstice off and that morning took a cup of coffee with me out to my front porch. It was warmer than usual that morning, so I sat for few minutes in quiet contemplation. I love writing on my front porch. I will write out there as long as the weather permits. In fact, I have arranged the porch intentionally to provide a desk and light, a chair and pillows, and even small fan when it is hot. All to accommodate writing outside. I feel more at ease near the trees and grass and birds. Writing is just energy, and it flows better in the open air.
I think the sunrise was 7:21 that morning and no neighbors were up and around yet. My house faces east so I had a good spot. On my long days of summer porch writing I start before dawn and will write until the sun rises high enough to shine in my eyes, telling me it’s time to stop unless I want to put on sunglasses to keep going.
The leaves on my neighbors’ trees across the street were long gone of course and the branches bare against a grey pre-dawn. It was cloudy so it wouldn’t be a dramatic sunrise. But the sun was coming back to life regardless and I was going to be there. I sat for a few more minutes. No cars came past, and none of the neighborhood dogs were out barking. I was alone on my porch, with my coffee and thoughts and ready to leaved ’25 behind.
Then I noticed movement way up at the top of the tree directly in my view. A squirrel had joined the party. I wasn’t sure why it was up it that top branch. There was nothing for it to eat and no neighborhood cat had chased it up there. But it was up there anyway, facing east, tail waving and chattering in squirrel-speak. It seemed to me that the squirrel was making sure I didn’t miss out on what it knew without looking at a calendar or device. The sun was alive, and new year had arrived.
Since that morning Christmas and the New Year have come and gone and I did my best to partake. But I had already celebrated the birth of the sun and moved on to the new year. Several weeks later I remain convinced that squirrel went up that tree to celebrate and honor the rebirth of the sun with me. I hope I’m invited back next year.
Coffee Novelist 